Seven Shattered Ribs
by madame.alexandra
Summary: The minefield of constructing a New Republic while expecting a new baby sort of collides in a really inconvenient way for Leia. Or, in other words: what if Han happened to miss the birth of his son? H/L; TFA canon. Well, not CANON but, uses that canon as background.
a/n: not beta'd well at all; i'll fix it later if it's glaring. set in the year-ish time frame TFA gave us.

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 _ **Seven Shattered Ribs**_

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Since the day Tantive IV had fallen prey to the Empire, setting in motion a slew of unforeseen and infinitely life altering events, Leia had learned to plan for nothing and expect anything; she learned to adapt, she learned to survive, she learned to heal, and she learned, ultimately, that her human experiences were never going to fall into the realm of normal, so she ought to stop expecting it.

There had been nothing normal about her coming of age, nothing normal about her wedding – a private affair that took place under the nose of desperate cease fire negotiations – and so it followed that there would be nothing normal about the birth of her child.

Though – in every contingency plan she'd had, whether the time come when she was off-world, on the Falcon, with little medical care – she'd never accounted for Han not being _present_.

It didn't bother her too much that he'd been off-world when she had the baby; they had their duties, and the inconvenient timing of all this didn't mean they quit everything and locked themselves away from society – no, what bothered her that no less than four hours after the baby's birth, she'd been woken up and told they finally made contact with General Solo, or rather, his garrison, and he was badly injured.

She'd been assured it wasn't so badly that it would be fatal, and she'd been assured that he was being brought home, for her sake, and for recovery's sake, but she'd been unable to shake the crippling fear that had struck her at the idea of losing him now, _now_ of all times.

She'd had Luke, though, and she'd had other things to occupy her – other things, like spending her first night as a mother in the hospital, her second alone in their apartment, and her third in a in a senate meeting, with the baby tucked against her chest – she'd sat in via holo, naturally, but she'd sat in all the same, and General Rieekan had told her in an annoyed tone to sign off and get some damn rest.

She couldn't, though; she was too wired. She was dealing with this new reality, and she was worried about Han – so four days after she had the baby, when she was told Han was safely laid up in a private medical hall, she enlisted Luke's help, and wasted no time.

She was lucky Luke seemed to have no typically male apprehension around babies; he was already fascinated with her son, though she suspected it had more to do with learning more about the Force than being an Uncle. Still, she safely entrusted the baby to him in a nook outside of Han's room, spoke with the nurse briefly, and then was allowed in.

She smiled when she saw him, folding her arms – even when he looked browbeaten and fragile; he seemed sturdier than anyone she'd ever known. She approached his bedside, watching his eyes lift open heavily.

He sat forward eagerly, winced sharply, and fell back, and she sat down lightly on the edge of the bed, resting her palms on his shoulders, pushing him against the pillows. Considering him a moment, she pursed her lips, and cleared her throat.

"Now," she began. "How is it that you shattered seven ribs?"

He smirked, but it was more of a grimace – bone knitters were still working on that kind of damage, and he'd clearly taken some other hits as well. There was a clear, clean line if sutures curving along his collarbone.

"You know that monitor the airspace, but stay out of the fray, directive?" he asked grimly. "Doesn't work if you get boarded."

"Imperials? Or gangsters?"

He gave her a funny look.

"You don't know?"

"No one's given me any military information in days, Han," she said, her lips quirking up slightly. "I've been busy."

He blinked at her, and then narrowed his eyes.

"You look different," he decided, taking a moment to run his eyes over her. He bolted forward, and his face turned pale at the sharp pain, but he didn't fall back this time. "You had him," he realized, his voice cracking. " _That's_ what they were tellin' me, before we got boarded."

Leia smiled at him quietly.

Han reached for her hands, gathering them in his and squeezing tightly – his past few days were blurry, but before they'd run into trouble on his assignment, his lieutenant had commed him to tell him there was a message from home. Han swallowed hard, his expression falling worriedly.

"Where is he?" he asked apprehensively. "Is he okay?"

Leia was looked at him curiously, and then realized he must be wondering why he wasn't _here_ , with her. She extracted her hand and touched his jaw gently.

"He's fine, Han," she assured him. She tilted her head. "Luke has him, for the moment. I didn't want to shock you," she admitted. She paused, licking her lips. "After I bring him in, it will never be just us again."

Han turned his head slightly, pressing his cheek into her touch. He knew he should have been more concerned when they gave him orders so close to her due date. He should have bowed out, or something, but she'd been so positive he'd be gone and back in a flash – easy mission, it was supposed to be, and yet here he was in a hospital bed while she told him he was a father.

He reached over and touched her arm, running his hand over her elbow.

"How are _you_?" he asked quietly, his voice hoarse. "How was it?"

She tilted her head, shrugged thoughtfully.

"It wasn't so bad," she advised. "The pain was nothing," she added, arching a brow – she was half-kidding, but she had definitely had worse, and this had been a good pain.

He squeezed her arm tightly.

"Leia, I'm sorry," he started.

She shook her head, her thumb stroking his jaw again.

"You'd have been here if you could," she told him. She smiled, and let her hand fall to his shoulder gently, lingering there a moment. "Ready to see him?" she asked.

Han nodded wordlessly, his stomach somersaulting – all these months of preparation for this, knowing it was coming, and he didn't know if he was ready – he'd already failed at the one thing he'd had to do at the very offset: show up.

Leia, unaware of his apprehension, rose and held up her hand, indicating he should wait a moment. She left quickly, and out in the alcoves, she turned to the side and bent over Luke.

"How's Han?" Luke asked, relinquishing his nephew.

"Battered, but not broken," Leia answered, settling Ben into the cradle of her arm. She pressed her fingers over his heart a moment and smiled, reveling in how tiny and warm he was in her arms. She looked at him silently for a moment, and then raised her eyes to Luke. "We need a little time alone, if you don't mind," she requested.

"Of course," Luke agreed hastily, leaping up. He ran a hand through his sandy hair. "I'll, uh – come by and see him later?"

Leia nodded absently, already distracted again by Ben, and before Luke could plan anything else, she was headed back into the hospital room, holding her breath for some reason – this really was _it_ , the end of her time with Han as just – just Han and Leia, princess and scoundrel.

It had all happened so fast that sometimes, she was still dizzy, but there was very little she could regret when she laid awake at night watching the baby sleep. She was sure Han would be as won over as she was.

He'd managed to sit up more by the time she came back, and he was staring at her almost slack-jawed, like a million thoughts were running through his mind. She stood next to him, baby in her arms, and he closed his mouth and swallowed hard, leaning over to look.

The baby – _his_ baby – blinked sleepily, eyes barely open, and Han felt like suddenly everything that had happened in his life, good or bad, everything that had landed him right in this very moment, made absolute sense.

Leia sat down close to him and held her arms out, silently placing the baby in his arms. Her hand lingered over the top of his head protectively, and she bent first to kiss his small brow, and then leaned up to kiss Han's jaw, drawing her legs fully up on the bed.

It hurt to move very much, but Han ensured that his grip was confident and secure, and he ignored the ache in his shoulder as he lifted one hand to touch a fist of five impossibly tiny fingers.

Next to him, Leia laughed quietly.

He looked up.

"What?" he asked, almost anxiously.

The baby shifted in his arms, and his heart skipped a hundred beats.

"Well, consider it," Leia said, gently amused. "You're in the hospital bed, and I'm handing you the baby – isn't it supposed to be quite the opposite?" she murmured.

He thought about it a minute, and grinned, looking back down at the baby.

"Hey, Sweetheart, why start doin' things the usual way now?" he drawled, running his palm carefully over the baby's sparse, darkish hair. He looked over at her. "He hasn't gone four days without a name, has he?" he asked.

"No," Leia assured him. "I decided Ben was best."

Han nodded, hesitating.

"You're sure you don't want to name him after your father?" he asked. This wasn't something he wanted her to regret, and he'd told her, so many times, that he had no people to honor; it was up to her.

"No," she demurred. She'd ultimately decided against it; she thought it would be too painful of a daily reminder. She reached out to tickle the bottom of Ben's foot affectionately. "Ben Kenobi was the last of the old Jedi," she murmured, "and if it weren't for him, and for Luke," she trailed off. "He'll be the first of a new generation," she said quietly.

He'd be one of the first to grow up in this new Republic, and she thought it fitting he have the name of a man who'd once been her only hope of winning this future.

"Second name?" Han asked.

"Organa," she said simply.

Han nodded. He turned, and focused his attention completely back on Ben. He was more awake now, curiously staring at Han, his expression peaceful. Han had always imagined a lot of crying, and he figured that would come eventually, but for now they just looked at each other, until Han, overwhelmed, had to look away.

He avoided looking at Leia, but she sensed his emotion, and crawled closer kneeling beside him and taking his face in her hands.

"Leia," he started, voice cracking.

"I know," she murmured, pressing her lips to his. "I know," she assured him, her lashes fluttering against his cheek as she touched her forehead to his temple - -she knew exactly how he felt; terrified, awestruck, spellbound, triumphant.

She took a deep breath, and pulled back, running her hand through his hair.

"You should get some sleep," she whispered. "I need you at full performance; he only sleeps when the sun is up."

Han nodded, but looked reluctant. He didn't want her to take Ben away, and she sensed that, after watching him a moment. She got up gingerly, and motioned for him to lay back. He stared at her like she was insane.

"Han, you're not going to hurt him," she said, a trace of a laugh in her tone. "Just lay back, he won't implode."

"What if he rolls off me?"

Leia started laughing. He didn't even have the attitude in him to scowl at her, and she shook her head, taking Ben back for a moment. He watched her effortlessly hold him against her shoulder, adjusting him until she had a good grip, and then she pushed Han back with one hand until he was lying against the pillows again.

"Here," she murmured, placing Ben on Han's shoulder. She was careful to let his weight down slowly; even an eight-pound baby wouldn't be comfortable all at once on Han's bruises torso.

She bent to kiss Ben's head again, and straightened up, folding her arms. Han, his head tilted at an odd angle, blinked at the baby with interest; Leia had placed him so his head was just level with his shoulder, and his body was right over his heart. With a wince, Han lifted his arm, and placed his hand on Ben's back.

"He can stay like this?"

"If you want him to," Leia said softly.

Han nodded, unwilling to let either of them out of his sight – the shock of coming back to a living, breathing baby had worn off; it was maddening, how quickly he'd decided his life before Ben was directionless and hollow. He wondered if Leia felt the same way.

Leia looked around mildly, and then, spotting a chair, pulled it up near the bed. She folded her arms and rested her chin on them, watching them both calmly. This was her life now. This was everything that for so long after Alderaan, she thought she'd never hope to have.

"Leia?" Han asked hoarsely.

"Hmm?" she murmured, a little too taken with the sight of him snuggling with the baby to formulate a reply – she hadn't really thought about how charming a picture it would be.

"What do we do now?" he ventured.

She lifted her head, and smiled at him brilliantly – that was the question of all questions, wasn't it – how were they going to raise the next generation?

"I was hoping you could tell me," she quipped.

He turned his head and met her eyes over Ben's head, and she ran her hand over his palm, interlacing their fingers , filled for the first time since the Endor Victory with a truly unquenchable optimism for the future.

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 _my old fandom involved a lot of military stories so i wrote this kind of thing a lot. of course this idea wouldn't leave me alone._

 _-alexandra  
story #295_


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